


A Way with Machines

by Iron_Angel



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Post-Canon, Robot/Human Relationships, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9002743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_Angel/pseuds/Iron_Angel
Summary: Nick needs a hand, Nora talks a little bit about her past, and two friends finally realize how much they mean to each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: *insert standard "don't own, no profits made" jargon here*
> 
> UnBeta'd. All mistakes/typos are mine. I'll correct them as I find them.

"Synth-free shopping, right here!"

Nick sighed and shook his head as he passed Diamond City Surplus, refusing to meet Myrna's pointed glare. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with the paranoid woman today. Her attitude was enough to annoy him on a good day, and this morning certainly hadn't been good by any stretch of the imagination.

Side-stepping Pete Pembroke and Nina Rodriguez's game of chase, he continued around the edge of market toward Home Plate. As he had hoped, Nora's pink-and-white painted power armor was hooked on the frame outside. She must have gotten back last night, he thought with a small smile at the ridiculous paint scheme. Just one more way she defied the grimness of the wasteland.

He turned to the door and gave a quick knock, opening it after a faint "Come in!" answered.

It'd been awhile since he'd been inside Home Plate. The entrance area had been cleared of all the debris to make way for a sofa, a coffee table, a now full magazine rack, and a bookshelf holding Nora's "collectibles". The gilded grasshopper from Marty Bullfinch's last case took up most of the top shelf.

Beyond that one area of order, however, the chaos of her workshop dominated the rest of the ground floor. Her workbench was clean with her tools hanging neatly on pegs, but next to it was a huge jumbled pile of random old world junk. The remaining two-thirds of the floor space was her main work area littered with works in progress.

Along with her duties as Minutemen General, she had set herself up as a repair shop. Today it looked like she was working on one of Sheng Kawolski's water purifiers.

He watched her for a long moment, admiring her delicate hands as she connected hoses and fastened clamps with ease. "You say you were a lawyer before the bombs dropped, but you have one hell of a knack for machinery."

She looked up from the purifier with a smile. "Getting suspicious of me there, Detective Valentine?"

"Comes with the territory," he chuckled, thumbing the brim of his fedora. "So, what's the story?"

She bent almost double to reach into bottom of the purifier's barrel-like hull, her head and shoulders disappearing. Her voice had an uncanny tinny-ness as she replied, "I've always been fascinated by technology, even as a kid. I loved it all. Appliances, computers," she rose slightly to look him in the eye, "robots."

Nick was very glad he couldn't blush, but had to fight the human impulse to cough.

She didn't seem to notice his sudden discomfort as she was again back in the bowels of the purifier. "I liked to tinker with anything and everything. Even joined the robotics club when I was in high school. But my father was a lawyer and he held the purse strings to my college tuition. He always said he wanted someone to take over the family business when he retired." Her tone became melancholy. "I think he couldn't stand the idea of having a grease monkey for a daughter."

Nick frowned at that. "That's a pretty disingenuous way to treat a child with such a talent."

She rose and slammed the lid shut. "Maybe. It would've been fun, I think, to have gone on to a career in engineering. But it worked out in the end." Her eyes got a far away look he didn't really like as she cleaned her hands on an old rag. "I worked for JAG, met Nate, and got my little blue house with a white picket fence in Sanctuary Hills. Might not have happened as an engineer."

She turned to him fully, eyes refocused and a small smile on her lips. "So I doubt you're here for a history lesson. What brings you to my corner of town?"

He shuffled from foot to foot, looking away. "Actually has a little bit to do with that history and a lot to do with your know-how. Wanted to ask if you can do me a, uh, personal favor."

Her smile widened. "If I didn't know any better, Nick, I'd say you're acting awfully nervous."

"More like embarrassed," he muttered.

He reached into his trenchcoat pocket and pulled out some bits of metal and a couple screws. She held out her cupped hands and he tipped the odd bits into them. She eyed them for a moment, then looked up at him with a confused frown. He held up his metal hand. Or what was left of it. His thumb, index, and middle finger were gone.

"Not exactly an easy job when you've only got one hand to work with," he explained. "I had hoped you wouldn't mind, since you were already in town."

"Sure thing. I'm always happy to help." She nodded toward her workbench. "Grab a stool."

The moment he sat down on the stool, she took his ruined hand in hers. Though he couldn't feel her touch -- no sensors -- he still felt a small thrill in his circuitry at her unabashed grip. She turned his hand this way and that, holding up the remnants of his fingers until she had figured out how each piece fit back into place.

She frowned when she got to the screws. "Looks like they're stripped." She turned his hand again and examined the screws on his still intact fingers. "They're all in bad shape."

"A few decades of shoddy self-maintenance will do that, I guess," he grumbled. "Surprised they haven't fallen off before now."

She didn't let go of his hand as she turned to appraise her pile of junk. He tried not to read into the way she held it, seeming almost intimate in her tenderness. "I'm pretty sure I have some spares. I can replace them, if you'll let me."

"Don't put yourself out on my account, doll." He blinked. He hadn't meant to use the pet name.

She didn't notice, or maybe just didn't care. With unnecessary caution, she placed his hand on the tabletop, then began fishing out old desk fans from the scrap pile. "It's not a problem."

She took a screwdriver to the first fan, removing a screw from it's base and comparing it to the size of one of his. The soft squeal of delight she made when it matched closely enough to do the job was just too damn cute. Within a couple of minutes she had salvaged enough, tossing the fan remains back into the pile.

She was about to start to work on him when she paused, staring at his hand and frowning again.

He liked the frown less than he liked her far away look. "What's the matter?"

She looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Nick. I have terrible bedside manner. Is... is this going to hurt you?"

Another thrill went through his circuitry at her concern, warming him. She never failed to see him as a person even now with his obvious mechanical parts in pieces in her hand.

"Not at all." He lifted his intact hand. "Sensors are in the 'skin' and wires. The old metal claw doesn't feel anything."

She sighed with relief. "Okay then." She set to work.

He usually wasn't keen on having someone work on him, much less watching them do it, but he couldn't help watching her. Despite having just reassured her that she couldn't hurt him, she was still careful. She was normally very quick, disassembling and reassembling her scrap projects in a blink. With him, she was slow and methodical. Gentle.

She didn't stop when she had his fingers back on and the screws replaced. Holding his wrist -- he did have sensors along the wires there, and oh how warm her fingers felt -- she flexed his fingers back and forth, testing them. She gave a small dissatisfied grunt and grabbed the grease can from the shelf above the bench, working the lubrication into his joints.

When she released him, he inspected her work himself, wiggling the digits. "I don't think they've moved so smoothly in years," he said, a little awestruck. "I have half a mind to let you have a go at the other one."

She beamed. "While I can't say I'm not interested, I wouldn't want to risk accidentally damaging your sensors." Her gaze fell to his good hand, holding hers out for it. "May I?"

He hesitated for a split second, then held it out for her to take. Her fingers were soft, though her palms were calloused. She traced the ridge of his knuckles, then flipping it palm up to individually caress each finger.

His sensors were firing rapidly, and he knew his heart would be racing if he still had one. He was no stranger to the curiosity of others. Before the anti-synth sentiments, there were many -- mostly kids -- that were interested in how he worked. He tolerated the kids. He didn't like that kind of attention from adults. They were always too rough with him. He was just a machine to them.

Nora was different.

"Amazing," she whispered to herself. She trailed her fingers over his palm again, to his wrist and under his sleeve.

It felt so good.

Suddenly, she was withdrawing her hand as if she'd been burned. The lost of contact was so startling, he snapped open his eyes -- when had he closed them? -- and met her alarmed gaze.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" she said hurriedly.

"Didn't mean to, what?" he asked, confused.

She clasped her hands together as if to keep herself from touching anything else. "You made a noise like I'd hurt you."

He'd made a noise? Oh god. He'd been so lost in the pleasure of her touch, he hadn't realized he'd _moaned_. This was just going to be his day for embarrassment, it seemed.

He could've shrugged it off and let her assume what she would. Maybe have chuckled and made a joke. He didn't want to, though. He freely admitted to himself that he was taken with her, especially after all she had gone through to help him put to rest the Winter case. She never shied away from his subtle flirting, even throwing a little his way. And this was one of those rare times he had her this close and alone. He didn't want to miss this opportunity.

"You didn't hurt me, doll. Been a very long time since I had such a beautiful dame touch me. It felt really nice." He offered his hand back to her. "I wouldn't mind more."

Her blush was something to behold, crimson spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. She took his hand again, and he tugged her closer. Not into an embrace, but close enough to stand in the space between his knees as he propped his feet on the rungs of his stool. From this position, he had to look up to keep eye contact. He found he didn't mind at all.

Just like with the repair job, she was unnecessarily cautious, lifting her free hand to his cheek and lightly skimming her fingers across and down to his chin. His eyes slipped closed again.

She gingerly thumbed the edge of his torn skin at his jaw. "Does it hurt?"

"No."

She shifted. His proximity sensors 'felt' her move closer. He cracked his eyes open to see the smooth column of her neck as she craned to look at his own damaged throat and the wires and actuators inside. He held completely still as she delicately caressed one of the thicker wires.

His sensors suddenly went into overdrive, coolant pumping hard in many directions at once. The feedback in his processors was a sharp tingle, much more intense than her touch against his skin. The moan that escaped his lips was downright _obscene_.

She made to jerk away again, but he caught her by the wrist, moving her hand to his chest. "Can't a fella get a drink first?" he chuckled.

Her wide-eyed look softened. "I'm sorry. I suppose that was too direct of me. I didn't know that was...um..." She trailed off, her blush returning as she ducked her head, looking down and away from him.

He released her wrist -- her hand stayed on his chest -- and curled a finger under her chin to make her look at him. He wanted to reassure her, but the sight of her bottom lip tugged between her teeth then popping loose as she softly inhaled, it was too much temptation. He kissed her instead.

She was so soft and she seemed to melt into him as she sighed into the kiss. Her arms moved around his neck as his hands found her thighs to pull her into his lap. Months of dancing around each other, of both denying what had been building, fell away into a surprisingly comfortable bliss. Like long time lovers. And maybe they had been all along. Each touch he wanted to read into but forced himself not to. Each flirt he aimed at her and she took with a smile. In hindsight, it seemed obvious now.

Keeping his metal hand on her hip to help her balance, he slid his other up into her hair as the kiss went from the press of lips to a gentle back-and-forth of tongues, his metallic-nicotine, hers sweet-cola.

He didn't want it to end.

While Nick didn't need to breathe, Nora unfortunately did. She pulled away slightly, and he allowed her a few moments to catch her breath as he gently tugged her hair -- long; another defiance in the face of this post-apocalyptic world -- to expose her throat to more gentle kisses down to the hollow at its base. Her soft moans were sweet music. Her hands slid back to his shoulders for support, gripping as her body arched into him.

The stool gave a loud creak, suddenly reminding them both of the impracticality of their position. Nora pulled away to glare down at the noisy furniture, then back up at Nick through her lashes. The heat in her eyes spelled nothing but trouble, and he was more than ready to fall in wholeheartedly.

With a mischievous little smirk, she carefully slid back off his lap, her hands trailing down his body and kicking off his sensors in a way that left him no doubt that she knew what she was doing to him. She grabbed his metal hand -- oh she was such a tease -- and pulled him after her as she made for the stairs to her loft bedroom.

Just like her small living room at the entrance, the loft was very tidy. Just the bed and a small set of drawers that served the duel function of a nightstand with a lamp. His own room back at the agency wasn't even this neat. He wondered if it was indicative of some obsessive compulsion she had, but his theories were dispelled as Nora toed off her boots and kicked them haphazardly under the bed.

Reality hit him hard as she released his hand to click on the lamp. Even though he had the original Nick Valentine's faded memories of times with his fiancee and a small number of women before her, Nick-the-Synth had never come anywhere near to such intimacy. He flirted, sure. He made friends easily enough, but no one had ever wanted to be this close to him. Not like this.

He moved up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. He pressed his nose into her hair, his olfactory sensors registering and recording her warm scent as he closed his eyes and simply held her for a moment.

Her hands rested over his with a pleased hum.

No matter what happened before or after, he never wanted to forget _this_.

She turned, hands sliding up the length of his arms, skimming over his neck, to his face. Her kiss was confident, and he marveled for a moment that Nora -- General of the Minutemen, bane of the Institute, beacon of hope, and his best and dearest friend -- wanted _him_.

She pulled back just a fraction, her lips still brushing against his as she said, "May I?" and lightly gripped the edge of his fedora. He nodded and she pulled it off, reaching behind her to set it on the dresser-nightstand. Next she worked at his tie, and he could only stand there with both hands pressing into the small of her back, feeling the ghosts of old pleasures and the tingles of new ones as her fingers inadvertently brushed skin and wire.

She had his coat off and draped over the foot of the bed by the time he moved again. He caught her up in another kiss as he gripped her hips, shifting one leg between hers, and catching his calf behind her knee. She let out that too cute squeal of hers as he used his leverage to topple them both unto the bed. He sat up and gave her a smug smile as they readjusted their positions more comfortably.

"Clever, Valentine," she huffed. "What do you do for an encore?"

He took a moment to enjoy her spread out so beautifully next to him, then gripped the tab of her jumpsuit's zipper and tugging it slowly down. "I might have a few more tricks to keep you entertained."

The zip open as far as it could go, he slid his good hand up the smooth expanse of her stomach, catching the underside of her bra on the backs of his fingers, and pushing it up to gently cup her breast. She arched up as he brushed his thumb over her nipple, and he swallowed her whimper.

After another minute or so of the kiss, Nora made it clear she was done playing. She rolled them, pressing him onto his back and straddled his hips as she pulled the jumpsuit off. Nick was charmed by her awkward little struggle to get the garment off, and smiled up at her victorious grin when she finally succeeded.

She was a beautiful picture like this, propped on her knees across him but not yet touching, hands momentarily behind her back to unhook her bra. When it had joined the jumpsuit somewhere on the floor, he reached up again to thread his fingers through her hair and bring her lips back to his. Honestly, he could just do this all day and be happy, but Nora's hands were moving between them, unbuttoning his shirt and tracing her fingertips along the edges of his panels.

When she reached his belt, however, his anxiety finally kicked in. He placed his hand -- his metal hand to emphasize his point -- over hers to stop her. "Doll, I... I'm..." he tried, but the words weren't coming to him.

She leaned back to meet his gaze, unintentionally shifting against the source of his worries. "Nick, it's okay," she said softly. "If you're uncomfortable, we don't have to do anything else. I won't be mad or disappointed."

He would treasure that, even if it was a misunderstanding.

He shook his head. "It's not that, sweetheart." God, he really didn't want to ruin this. "It's just that I'm not... well, normal."

She smiled, mischief back in her eyes. "The glowing eyes and servos already kind of gave it away, just so you know."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Can I tell you how much I love that smart mouth of yours?"

"You _could_ tell me, but I learn better hands-on." The smile turned serious as she flipped her hand up to link her fingers with his. "Really, Nick, it's okay if you want to stop."

He shook his head again vehemently. "God, no."

Kissing more urgently now, he rolled her back beneath him. Taking her by the wrists, he gently pinned them to the mattress at either side of her head as he trailed his lips down to her throat, nipping pale pink marks onto her skin until he reached her breasts. He swiped his tongue over one nipple, then the other as he progressed lower to the soft swell of her stomach. He gave a squeeze in warning to keep her hands in place, then skimmed his fingers lightly down her sides to catch the waistband of her panties.

"May I?" he echoed.

When she nodded, he tugged them down and off. They might have landed somewhere over the side of the loft, but he couldn't be bothered to care at the moment. He pressed lingering kisses over her hip and down to her inner thigh, savoring her twitches and gasps. When he finally made the contact she was craving, she absolutely _yelped_.

The vague memories belonging to human Nick Valentine that had once made him uncomfortable to recall served him well as he lavished his attentions against her folds, tongue pressing then flicking against her clit in soft, expert licks. She writhed against him, and he held her down by her opened thighs as he devoured her.

"Nick, please, I'm gonna--" she whimpered.

He caught the nub between his lips and hummed his agreement, the vibration sending her into her orgasm with a high pitched keen.

His smug smile was back as he met her gaze over her heaving chest. He didn't give her long to catch her breath as he moved back up her body to kiss her. Her hands were again at his belt, but he didn't stop her this time as she unbuckled it and released the button of his trousers.

Indeed, he wasn't "normal". Between a genderless Gen 2 and an almost-human Gen 3, Nick was only rudimentarily equipped. Smooth, virtually featureless, but reasonably long and thick, and made of a flexible silicone-like material.

Nora didn't mind it as she gently took him in hand -- he was a little disappointed that he had no more sensors there than what were in his fingers -- and guided him into her. He slid in effortlessly, her release easing his way as he sank slow and deep. He let her dictate the pace with a roll of her hips and set his rhythm to match.

Despite no extra sensitivity in his length, he couldn't deny how wonderful it felt to be inside of her. So hot and wet, each thrust sent small electric shocks across his sensors, pulling moans of his own from his lips. It wouldn't bring him to peak, but he didn't care. To feel her like this was enough.

So soon after her first climax, Nora was right at the threshold of another within moments. He hooked her leg around his waist as he sped up, urging her all the faster towards completion. She arched completely off the bed and keened again as it hit her.

He didn't think he'd ever seen something so beautiful.

He bent to kiss her again, reluctantly easing out of her, when she slipped her fingers up his throat and into the gaps in his skin, into his wires. The electric shocks in his sensors became lightning. Pleasure spiked so hard and fast through him that he only barely registered the staticky buzz and screech of his vocalizer glitching before he shut down.

~

Nick knew he had "blacked out" when his reboot process initiated. First function to come back online was his proximity and tactile sensors. He could feel Nora still beneath him; he was still laying with his hips between her thighs and his forehead resting between her breasts. She was running her fingers over the seams of his skull plating.

When he had full-body functionality again, he pushed himself up to kiss her long and slow. "Damn, doll, you really do have one hell of a knack for machinery," he sighed contentedly.

"I find myself approving of those 'tricks' you have, too, Valentine," she chuckled. "Wouldn't mind seeing what else you can do."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
